Magpie Tale # 9

He was certain it wasn't a dream, every detail was exact and fresh in his mind; the smell of her perfume still in his nostrils, the taste from her glossy chocolate painted lips lingered on the tip of his tongue.

From the bumbling, tongue-tied attempts at conversation when he'd first noticed her sitting beside him at the bar, to the complete and satisfying release from their volcanoes of lust at 3AM when they'd awakened for a second go 'round.

If it was a dream, his imagination was definitely in overdrive like never before.

His ego waning, he raised himself from his bed, looked back and seeing no evidence to confirm that anyone but himself had occupied said bed, he plodded to the bathroom to relieve the mounting pressure in his bladder. Dejected at the prospect that the newly awakened passion, nay, love of his life had only been a dream, he stood in the dark relieving himself and thought, " I even remember her name: Genetta, and she said she worked at the U.S. embassy. How could I have dreamt that?"

Stepping to the sink and flipping on the light, he turned on the water to wash his hands and blinked in disbelief. Thinking, maybe he should slap himself to make sure his was really awake as he stared at the object standing upright on his marble vanity top. Like a turgid reminder of the night's activities, stood the lipstick; the glossy chocolate lipstick whose taste still glazed his own lips.

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